[log] Event: Metamorphosis, Part Three

[snowblindmods]

Characters: everyone
Location: all around town; note location in subject line
Date: Night 415 onward; note time in subject line
Summary: They break out and they wake up.
Warnings: extreme body horror, unreality, eldritch horror, absolutely definitely 100% include warnings in subject lines/before your comment if the subject line isn't long enough

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[devoutish]

[But it's okay, because Alfie knows what he's trying to do. It's a psychological touch, even if it's not a physical one. He lifts a hand to try to stroke him again, but that's starting to crumble, too.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce protests again, wrapping himself around Alfie's arm. ]

Stop. Rest. [ Royce orders, panicked. Don't leave. Don't die. ]

[devoutish]

Too hungry for it.

[He has to keep walking, keep wandering - it's an aimless, restless thing.]

[bywolves]

[ He understands that - he's hungry too, it's just. ]

Can't find food if you're ash. [ Royce says, sharper, louder. More parts of him wisp away. ]

[devoutish]

[Is it really food he wants, though? He's not sure. He keeps shuffling along, though he's slowing with every step.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce can't make him stop. But he can fall off Alfie's shoulders, so he does. He drops down to the ground, splattering to the floor and laying in a heap. Hungry. He's starving, but this is more important. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie stops, reaching for Royce with fingers that are just ashy stubs.]

No, no, come on; we have to get away from them.

[bywolves]

What? [ Royce asks, confused, staring up at Alfie. Or - trying to. He doesn't exactly have a face or eyes, so much. He stays where he is, the liquid parts of him pulling away and dripping into the shadows of the tunnels. ]

[devoutish]

I don't trust them.

[Not any of them. He needs to get Royce somewhere safe and nice, where they can curl up together and just... be.]

[bywolves]

Who? [ But - he gets it. He also wants to just curl up. Until the hunger is too much, anyway. Cautiously, he slides closer and wraps around Alfie's crumbling legs, separating in two, forming supports, as much as he can. It hurts to do, it hurts - but he hold back the noises he wants to make. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie doesn't answer. He's really just a pile of half-formed ash now - he's becoming less and less solid by the minute. Down the tunnel, back the way they'd come from, the ash he'd left behind in trails sweeps across the floor towards them, as if blown by an invisible wind.]

[bywolves]

[ There's the sound of screaming, in the distance, in a far away place. If Alfie were human, he'd be numb, all of Royce's abilities freaking the fuck out. It's dark, yes, it's dark now, but he doesn't want the dark, he wants that small, frightening glow.

The mass of cloak and shadow jitters down the hallway, pained, and tries to help sweep the ash together into a pile. ]

[devoutish]

[That glow is fading, dying, almost entirely gone now. Alfie doesn't try to speak again. He doesn't even look like himself anymore - he's just a mound of ash with a flickering ember at its center.

But the mound grows bigger, as Royce piles the ash together.]

[bywolves]

Alfie. [ Royce whispers, distressed. He curls around the pile of ash, keeping it together, and he's solid, now, he's solid and he's not letting the last bit of Alfie go. ] Alfie.

[ Over and over and over again. Alfie, Alfie, Alfie. Don't leave him. ]

[devoutish]

[It happens slowly, just like the unmaking had happened slowly. The ember at his core flickers, and almost dies - and then it reignites, burning brighter. The ash continues to pile up, with Royce's help but also on its own. It forms a hand, with fingers that wiggle.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce carefully reaches to touch the hand, holding it. He's so focused on this. Focused on keeping Alfie together, focused on keeping himself together so that he can do this. The light almost makes him skitter away, but he doesn't. He won't run. He's not afraid, not of Alfie. ]

Stay. [ He whispers, only vaguely lucid. ] Stay with me.

[devoutish]

[The formation goes faster, and faster, and maybe it's just coincidence but maybe it's a little bit Royce, too. From the hand comes an arm, and then a shoulder, and then his upper torso. The other arm is next, and then a head, and a mouth that yawns like someone who's just waking up. And inside everything is that light, that fire, flickering wildly and burning bright.]

[bywolves]

[ The base instinct takes over, and he can't help it - the light gets brighter, and Royce whimpers and tries to close his eyes against it. It hurts. He doesn't want to look at it. His shape shudders and starts to fall apart again, dripping and evaporating and separating.

He slinks away, just a bit, and as Alfie starts to form again, Royce is a tiny puddle of shadowy wisps and sludge on the ground in front of him. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie, still only half-formed, reaches out blindly. He's looking for a hand or a cheek to touch.]

I want--

[His voice rasps and crackles like fire.]

I want it to be both of us, mate; I want us both to be here.

[bywolves]

Can't, I can't, can't, I can't I can't I can't --

[ Royce jitters out, and tiny shadowy claws come up to drag him away, dozens of them extending from the puddle and trying so hard to get out, get away from the light. He can't think, he can't focus, he's losing himself to the monster. ]

[devoutish]

No, no, no--

[Alfie gasps, reaching for him, trying to protect him but not totally sure what he's protecting him against.]

You can't have him--

[bywolves]

[ There's that wailing again, distant and distressed, far, far away. He just repeats himself, static blurring out pieces of him and his words and his mind, and he lets out a little sob right here, right now, and wrenches those tiny little claws out of the tunnel below them. His. This is his body. His limbs.

He's not afraid of the light, he isn't. The light is Alfie and he still has just enough humanity in him to remember that he isn't scared.

The shadowy puddle pulls itself apart, like tearing up paper into bits. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie reaches out for whatever bit of the cloak he can touch, pulling it up to his fiery mouth and kissing it.]

[bywolves]

[ Slowly, trembling, the puddle carefully reforms itself, starting from where Alfie kissed it and becoming something somewhat solid. It wraps itself around Alfie's hand, trying not to flinch away from the heat and the light. ]

[devoutish]

I've got you.

[He kisses the bit wrapped around his hand, rubbing his cheek against it.]